


Romance Goes Out the Window With Dad in the Next Room

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-02
Updated: 2006-08-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8701594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Will having Dad around curtail the Wincest? I think not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Title: Romance Goes Out the Window With Dad in the Next Room  
Author: merepersiflage  
Pairings: Sam/Dean   
Rating: 18+  
Category: episode based PWP  
Word Count: 2,918  
Spoilers: Through “Dead Man’s Blood”  
Summary: Will having Dad around curtail the Wincest? I think not.  
Warnings: Incest, graphic m/m sex, language,   
Disclaimer: The boys belong to others, I intend no harm and will make no profit. And I really did this to Peggy’s Ken and Chip dolls. I wonder if that’s why I never got invited back to her house?  
Notes: For the fabulous [ ](http://may-burrows.livejournal.com/profile)[**may_burrows**](http://may-burrows.livejournal.com/) in honor of her birthday. People born under Taurus totally rock!   
  
  
  
**Romance Goes Out the Window With Dad in the Next Room**  
  
  
  
Sam’s intense stare was freaking him out.   
  
“What are you lookin’ at?”  
  
“You.”  
  
“Well, wouldja stop?” Dean shifted from his lean on the Impala’s hood. He was definitely going to detail it, as soon as they stopped for longer than a couple hours sleep. “Dad’s going to be back any minute.”  
  
“Dean. You swore. At Dad.”  
  
“I did not.” He faced Sam.   
  
“You so did. You said ass.”   
  
“That’s not swearing.”  
  
“You said he was full of shit.”  
  
“I said, ‘That’s a bunch of crap,’ but I said it with respect.”  
  
“Yeah, that kind of respect would have got me knocked into next week.”  
  
“Oh, like Dad ever hit you.”  
  
“Dude, were you there the last fight? I had a split lip my whole first week at Stanford.”  
  
“Would you stop? He’s coming back.”  
  
Dad came back from the motel office, a single key in his hand. “It’s room 12, at the end.”  
  
Sam kicked him, and Dean kicked him back and then Sam was burning a hole in the back of his head with his glare.  
  
“Hey, Dad. Uh, Sam and I are a little big to be sharing a bed.”  
  
Dad looked them up and down, and Dean was never more thankful that most of these conversations took place past midnight. After all those years of hiding it from Dad, he’d have thought he was better at keeping the blush off his cheeks.   
  
Dad finally shrugged. “I’ll go get—”  
  
“Nah, Daniel Franklin’s buying.”  
  
“Get the room next door.” Dad’s voice was back to full Marine sergeant. “And salt the—”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Sam cut him off. With respect.  
  
  
“Dude, you really got the room next door.”  
  
They slung their gear onto the bed nearest the door.   
  
“What was I supposed to say, ‘Dad, we can’t get the room next door because we want to fuck like weasels.’?”  
  
“You could have bullshit him. Something was wrong with it, broken window lock, whatever. And how do you know how weasels fuck?”  
  
“Animal Planet. And Sam, anything we can get away with is going to be a freaking miracle. Dad isn’t stupid and we’re both out of practice lying about it.” Dean thought again about Michael and his two queens comment. Way out of practice.  
  
“And we used to be so good at it,” Sam said.   
  
Dean thought of his father’s stare, the way it had seemed to miss absolutely nothing, never had. It’d probably had no trouble picking up his blush, the shine in Sam’s eyes. He winced. If Dad knew, Dean so did not want to know. Dad probably _didn’t_ want to know, which was the only reason Dean was still breathing air.   
  
Sam straightened from his salt line. “And will you stop teasing me about Sarah?”  
  
“Why? You’re so damned cute when you dimple.”   
  
Sam slung something at his head that he ducked easily and went back to laying a line on the window. He looked down at Sam’s jacket and got an idea that had the corner of his mouth twisting in a way he knew set Sam off. Exactly how far could he take Strip Tease Toss?  
  
“You know, I’m counting on getting some nieces and nephews out of you.”  
  
Sam’s top shirt flew, and Dean let it graze his shoulder, a button stinging his cheek.   
  
“At least with Sarah, they have a chance of being good looking little Winchesters. I can only pray they take after their uncle.”  
  
Sam’s t-shirt whipped into his face, and Dean looked up to eye his brother’s naked chest with an obvious leer.   
  
“And exactly how will I explain to the mother of my children my continuing need to bang my big brother?”  
  
“Keep it down,” Dean whispered, even though Sam’s last few words had been spoken so softly he’d had trouble hearing them.  
  
“That’s not what you said last time.” Sam pushed his jeans off his hips and watched Dean.  
  
Now, he had to look at him like that?   
  
Now, with Dad and his hunter’s ears right the hell next door and the biggest fight of their lives staring them in the face did Sam have to look at him with that hero worship that Dean hadn’t seen since long before he left for college?   
  
The look that made Dean feel like he could knock over anything with a puff of air from his too full chest. The look that made him feel like a total rat bastard for taking advantage of that adoration while making him want to fuck Sammy right through to the box springs. Now?  
  
Sam’s naked body was suddenly too close to ignore, with those eyes that felt like they were looking up at him despite his brother’s extra four inches right.  
  
“You always make too much noise.”  
  
“I’ll be quiet.”  
  
“Yeah. If I gag you. And even then . . .” But his dick was making other protests. And Sam’s pouty mouth was right there. “We could—ah—find something else to occupy your mouth.”  
  
“Last time we did that you almost bit my dick off.” His brother’s dirty whispers were right against his lips.   
  
“You suck like a whirlpool when you come, Sammy. And your tongue does this incredible flicking thing. It’s a little distracting.”  
  
“I can’t do it right like that. It’s all the wrong angle.”  
  
“Did you notice me complaining last time? And I really didn’t even bite you.”  
  
“Close enough, want to see how you like it?”  
  
“No!” Dean remembered to whisper at just the last moment.  
  
Sam pushed Dean’s jacket off his shoulders. “So?”  
  
“So? You got an idea for a gag, buddy? Because I don’t see you shutting up.”  
  
“I can.” Sam yanked Dean’s flannel off from the collar.   
  
“Oh, please. You ruin every opportunity for public sex with a moan before I even get anything on your dick.” This conversation should not have been making him this hard. But even arguing with Sam made his dick happy. And now he had everything the way he wanted it. He just wanted Dad sleeping a little farther away. “We miss out on some seriously fun times because of that.”  
  
“It’s a problem that I like it? You want me to suffer in silence?”  
  
“I want you to show a little self-control. I’m not kidding, Sam. Doing this with Dad in the next room scares the shit out of me, even more than it did when we were sneaking around when we were kids. At least back then, we could blame hormones.” And Dean had rehearsed that argument just in case. There was the one time Sam had fallen asleep in his bed and Dad had popped in on them around three but thankfully Dad had been too drunk or thought it was a dream ‘cause he’d never mentioned it.  
  
Sam tugged his t-shirt over his head. “You’re scared of something besides flying? I think that’s turning me on.”  
  
“Yeah, ’cause you were totally lacking in that before.” He looked pointedly down at where Sam’s dick was making the point for him.   
  
Sam unhooked Dean’s belt and his jeans. “I want to fuck.” His words were as close as a kiss on Dean’s lips.   
  
“Maybe I’m a little tired—”  
  
“Let me clarify. I want you to fuck me.”  
  
“Oh.” And there was no way his dick was turning that down. It loved Sam’s ass. He’d have figured out a way if Dad was sleeping in the next bed. And then his dick told him to stop thinking about Dad, and instead he started thinking about how they were going to do this. Sam always came up with some interesting positions, geeky research boy that he was. He let Sam peel his jeans and shorts off. “How?”  
  
“You need instructions? I thought you were some kind of stud.”  
  
“You are so gonna to regret that remark.” And he yanked Sam’s head down for a kiss. Well, not so much a kiss as a fuck of his mouth. His tongue swept inside, tasting, owning and Sam stuck out his long arms to keep them from crashing into the wall. He bit Sam’s lip, and Sam moaned.   
  
“See?” He broke off and whispered harshly in Sam’s ear. “Get a little control or I swear to god I will gag you.”  
  
Sam clenched his teeth. There was no way in hell Sam just got more turned on by his brother’s threat. He’d just got done declaring that he was an adult and now Dean’s demands were making his cock twitch and leak enough precome to lube them both?   
  
He moved away and knelt on the bed. He tucked a pillow under his hips and stuffed one in his mouth.   
  
Dean laid down next to him and whispered in his ear. “Jeez, Sammy, that’s really romantic.”  
  
“What? C’mon, Dean, I’m really horny.”  
  
“Yeah, I can see that. But this isn’t going to work, much as I enjoy the position.”  
  
Sam rolled onto his side, the pillow twisting his back to hell. “Why?”   
  
“If the banging of the headboard wasn’t enough of a problem, as soon as I start moving in you, you’re going to spit that pillow out and start begging.”   
  
“I’m not going to let you gag me.”  
  
“Doesn’t have to be a pillow or my dick . . .or my shorts.”  
  
Sam punched him. “In your dreams.”  
  
Dean’s eyes glittered. “C’mon.” He pulled Sam up by the elbow.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Don’t you trust me?”  
  
“Not in this mood.”   
  
But Sam followed him to the side of the room farthest from the wall they shared with Dad and looked at the provisions Dean had gathered on the way. Lube, condom, pillow and blanket. Dean spread the blanket on the floor.  
  
“Are we having a picnic or something?”  
  
“Something.”   
  
“Come on, Dean.”   
  
“Yeah, I got it, you’re horny. Shit, you got all that action in college with that kind of line?”  
  
“Bite me.”   
  
“Only if you can keep quiet when I do it.”  
  
Dean sat cross legged on the blanket. Sam folded his arms and waited.   
  
“Gotta tell you, trying to look all pissy and dignified doesn’t work when you’re naked with a hard on.”  
  
Sam sighed.  
  
“And I appreciate the flattery, but even my dick can’t reach you up there. C’mon, Mr. Horny.” Dean indicated his lap.   
  
“Are you talking to me or my dick?” Sam knelt down.  
  
“Both of you. Still a little far away, Sammy.”  
  
Sam walked his knees until he straddled Dean. “So you doing research now?”  
  
“Watching porn isn’t research, Sammy. Here.” Dean tossed him the lube. “You get you ready, I’ll do me.”  
  
“Sheesh. Now who’s being romantic.”  
  
“You started it. I thought you were horny and ready to go.”  
  
“Fine.” He was going to put on a hell of a show doing it, too. He’d see how snarky Dean could be then.  
  
He squirted some lube onto his fingers and tossed the bottle back to Dean. And then got a little distracted as he watched Dean work his dick, rubbing a little lube on the head before he rolled the condom down.   
  
“All ready, already?”  
  
Shit. He was a cocky sonofabitch. Sam reached behind himself and rubbed on the lube. It felt really weird to be doing this to himself, especially with Dean watching but then his finger slipped inside and he had to bite his lip. As he arched back, his cock jutted against Dean’s sheathed one, the silky latex still a little cool on his skin. He gasped.   
  
Dean raised the t-shirt in threat, and Sam clenched his teeth. He was going to end up with that t-shirt stuffed in his mouth, he knew it, and it should have pissed him off. Instead, he fucked himself a little faster and slid in another finger. The look on Dean’s face, lust in his wet lips and affection shining in his eyes, made him bite his tongue to keep from moaning.   
  
Dean slid his non-lubed fingers in Sam’s mouth, and Sam sucked them appreciatively, his tongue working around them as he rocked back onto his fingers. He felt the cool slick of lube between them knew Dean was rubbing his cock and sucked harder, fucked harder. His head dropped back until his hair tickled low on his neck.   
  
“Now, Sammy.” His brother didn’t sound so cocky now.  
  
Sam lifted himself up. The head went in and then stopped. Holy shit. Why had he been in such a fucking hurry?  
  
“Fuck, you’re tight.” Dean breathed against his neck.   
  
“Yeah, I kinda noticed that myself.”  
  
Dean reached for his dick.   
  
“Don’t. Not yet.”  
  
Sam eased down farther and this was a terrible position and it was never going to work and fuck that hurt and Dean wouldn’t have to worry about him making noise because all he was going to do was to just grit his teeth until Dean got off and then finally he was sitting in his brother’s lap. He could feel the sweat dripping off his temples. Every single atom of him was totally fucked, burning, screaming with it.   
  
He opened his eyes. He didn’t have to tell Dean not to move. Dean was watching him and now his hunger was at war with concern. “Sammy, are you sure.”  
  
“Oh, we are not stopping now,” he grunted.  
  
Dean lapped at the sweat on his neck. Sam rocked himself forward and then back a little and that wasn’t so bad. But it still wasn’t good.   
  
Dean was breathing like he hurt as much as Sam did, and Sam knew it was killing him not to move.   
  
There was only one way it was going to get better. “Okay.” He said.  
  
“You sure don’t look okay, why don’t we try—”  
  
“Dean,” and he made his voice as commanding as he could in that whisper. “Fuck me.”  
  
His brother was a perfect soldier. He gripped Sam’s hips and rocked up into him. And the friction made it a little better. And then it was burning a totally different way, and Sam opened his mouth, and Dean tugged his head down and swallowed his moan. Sam couldn’t talk with Dean’s tongue wrapped around his own, but he could whimper, until Dean sealed his lips around his mouth in a breath-stealing kiss.   
  
It must have been the lack of oxygen because now it was perfect, nerves no longer screaming but purring, muscles no longer fighting but cradling his brother’s cock inside him. He’d have sworn Dean would never hit him right from this position and then he did and Sam wanted to scream _Harder_ but his mouth was full of his brother’s kiss, spice and coffee from dinner and a little blood from the tight press of lips. He lifted up and slammed back down, or maybe Dean was slamming up into him and it didn’t’ matter because they hit that spot again and if Dean didn’t have his mouth the whole motel strip would have heard him.   
  
_Now, now, now_ he was going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, or the heat, or the pleasure, the 10,000 volts tearing down his spine, through his pipes. And somehow Dean heard him, because he pressed tighter against him and he didn’t even need a hand on his dick because it was rubbing between them so abso-fucking-loutely perfect until all those volts ripped it right out of him. Dean drove up into him again and again, finally freeing his mouth and Sam grabbed him by the back of the head and took it back again, because when Dean came they were both going to get loud.  
  
He rocked his hips with Dean’s thrusts and his brother’s grunt vibrated against his mouth as he came.   
  
Sam rested his forehead against Dean’s as they shared a couple of big and hopefully not too noisy breaths.   
  
“Dude, you have got to learn a little self-control. It’s hard to come when you can’t breathe.”  
  
“I didn’t have any trouble.”  
  
“Yeah, well I’m just that good.”  
  
Sam’s legs hurt, his back hurt and his ass—god, he hoped he didn’t end up walking funny. “Fuck you.”  
  
“Nah, now I’m definitely too tired.”  
  
Sam eased up with a wince. He just might be able to crawl to the bed. Dean wiped himself up with the t-shirt.   
  
“Hey, that was mine.”   
  
“Your come, dude.”  
  
“I fucking hate you.”  
  
“Aw, that’s just the good sex talking, sweetheart.”  
  
“I really fucking hate you.” Sam’s ass hurt like hell when he climbed on the bed.   
  
“Don’t give it up if you’re going to whine about it.”  
  
And it would be way too chick flick to explain to his brother that when Dean finally, finally stood up to Dad he wanted to give him much more than his body to fuck. He’d never loved Dean more.   
  
Until every shift of his brother on the bed reminded him of exactly how much he’d just been fucked.   
  
Dean rolled closer to whisper in his ear, “So, since you’re all about sharing and everything with Dad when you gonna tell him about your visions and your amazing look-no-hands furniture arranging?”  
  
“I really, really fucking hate you.”  
 


End file.
